


Morning Glow

by PeachyPerfect (tomssweetheart)



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Boys In Love, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Nipple Play, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Smut, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:08:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26704240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomssweetheart/pseuds/PeachyPerfect
Summary: I’ve always found him fascinating. From the moment I met him, he had always caught my eye, even in the biggest crowds. There was just something about him that made my skin prickle and my fingers eager to touch, to reach out and make him mine. Now that I was finally allowed to do just that, it was like he did everything in his power to have me stand there transfixed and just… watch.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Comments: 48
Kudos: 152





	Morning Glow

**Author's Note:**

> Just Armie admiring his beautiful boy, because what else do we need? ♥ Thank you to **JoliePrudence** for beta reading for me and being an overall awesome person to talk to! ♥

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A slight morning chill crept up over my damp skin from where it came in through the open bathroom window. The towel around my hips did little to protect me from the slowly decreasing temperatures that came with the Fall season in Los Angeles. It was still considerably warm outside, but you could already feel the difference and after spending the night wrapped up in a warm bed with my warm boyfriend, everything outside of our little cocoon just felt icy cold.

I took off the towel and dropped it into the hamper, before I slipped on a clean pair of boxer shorts and a white tank top. I had stepped into the bathroom earlier with the intention to get a quick shower and head out the door to get us some breakfast, but as soon as I got back to the bedroom, I knew breakfast would have to wait. 

I had opened the curtains before I had gone to take my shower, knowing that Timmy liked to slowly wake up to the warmth of the first rays of sun. A soft glow shone across our king size bed, the messy sheets pushed down to the footboard. He was lying in the middle of the mattress, squirming in delight. His perfectly pale skin was almost daring me to come closer, to claim him, but I held back. Instead, I chose to take in the beauty that was Timothée Chalamet in its entirety.

I’ve always found him fascinating. From the moment I met him, he had always caught my eye, even in the biggest crowds. There was just something about him that made my skin prickle and my fingers eager to touch, to reach out and make him mine. Now that I was finally allowed to do just that, it was like he did everything in his power to have me stand there transfixed and just… watch.

As I let my eyes roam over his length, I took in the small little details that I had come to treasure. His dark curls spread out over the white pillow beneath his head; his dark eyelashes fanning over prominent cheekbones, as his eyes were still blissfully closed; his soft pink lips, the bottom one caught between his teeth. When my eyes traveled down his swan-like neck, I noticed a blotch in the hollow where his neck met his shoulder and I remembered sinking my teeth into the skin as I shuddered through my second orgasm, only hours earlier. I was allowed to do that now, to mark him as mine. Because he was.

My boyfriend rolled his head to the side - away from me - and arched his back, forcing my gaze to trail down his chest and notice his stiff little nipples, the skin around them lightly scathed from when my facial hair had put more marks on him. The flat planes of his stomach looked smooth and inviting and when my eyes finally landed on his crotch, I couldn’t help but smirk.

He was hard in his soft pink Levi’s boxer shorts and the first two fingers of his right hand were slowly, lightly trailing up and down his length. His knees, pulled up a little as his heels dug into the mattress, fell apart and he cupped himself firmly, running his thumb over the sensitive tip of his cock, only just covered by the white elastic band of his underwear. He sighed and slipped his fingers under the fabric, giving himself a slow stroke.

My eyes never strayed from the movement in his tiny boxer shorts as I slowly treaded closer to the bed, the hardwood floorboards creaking under my steps. Timmy shifted on the mattress and when I looked up at his face for a second, I could see that a small grin had formed around his lips, but his eyes were still closed and he was still leisurely stroking himself.

As I sat down on the edge of the bed, he lifted his left hand and let it join his right one. He took a hold of the waistband of his underwear and pulled it down over his cock, letting it rest under his balls - which were full and drawn up tight against his body. His tip was swollen and wet with precum where he was holding it between the fingers of his right hand. His thumb slowly traced the crown while his middle finger rubbed up and down over his frenulum and he shuddered, spreading his thighs even wider.

“Timothée,” I whispered. I used the French pronunciation and seductively drew out the last syllable. My hand found its way to his closest thigh - almost on its own - and I softly stroked his skin. His lips parted and he gasped quietly, pushing his cock up into his fist, now tightly formed around his shaft.

“Hmm… Good morning,” he whispered. His eyes finally opened and he smiled as they found mine staring back at him. 

“Good morning, sweetheart,” I brought a hand up to wipe a stray curl from his forehead and gave him a warm smile in return, “What are you doing?”

Timmy bit his lip and closed his eyes. “I just wanna… Just a little,” he whimpered. His left hand traveled up over the expanse of his stomach and once it reached his chest, he gently thumbed his nipple, running his nail over the stiff peak. My mouth watered and my cock filled out behind the restraints of my boxers. He was so beautifully sensual.

“Were the three orgasms I gave you last night not enough, baby?” I asked teasingly. It wasn’t a question of _Was I not good enough?_ or _Did I not satisfy you?_. It was a goodhearted jab at the fact that Timmy was insatiable. His masturbating wasn’t a sign that I had to try harder to make him feel good. It was his way of showing me how comfortable and sexually free he felt in my presence. It was his way of saying _I’ll always want more and I want it whenever,_ and it caused my insides to twist pleasantly. He wanted me.

“Wanna play for you,” he answered, deliberately choosing not to answer my question, because he didn’t need to. I wasn’t insecure.

I nodded slowly and scooted back on the mattress until my back was resting against the footboard. “Then play for me,” I told him and he did. He pulled his knees up even further and briefly took his hand off his cock to take off his underwear. I didn’t know what made him decide to hand me the pink fabric, but he did and I took it. It was damp between my fingers and I brought it up to my face, smelling his arousal and spiking my own.

Timmy spread his legs before me and let his hands trail down over the inside of his thighs. His cock eagerly twitched at the touch where it lay against his stomach. He brought one hand further down and rubbed a knuckle over his perineum, hissing in pleasure, before he circled his hole with a fingertip, the rim red and puffy from where I had used it repeatedly over the course of a few hours. It still looked slick and I could see his muscles relax, greedy for more.

I remembered being impatient to get him home and up to our room, once I had picked him up from the airport. I remembered stripping him naked and finally giving in to the urge to touch, stroke, trail my fingers wherever they pleased to go. I remembered bending him over the bed and pushing my tongue inside him, impatient to wait another second before I could taste him again. Impatient to feel how he opened for me beautifully; how he pushed back on my tongue, eager for more, something, _anything._ I remembered finally sliding inside him, after tonguing him through his first, earth shattering orgasm, and how it had felt like coming home; like I belonged right there and nowhere else, ever again.

I remembered waking up in the middle of the night, my skin prickling with the need to pull him closer - as close as possible - and how I had made love to him all over again, just like that. I remembered vividly and if one day I would forget, this was how Timothée would help me remember.

By spreading himself out for me, exposing his most intimate parts - parts where only I had ever been - and showing me what I’d done to them. Where I had left my mark and made him mine.

Timmy’s left hand was on his stomach now, while the right one slowly worked his cock. Slowly, because we finally had all the time in the world. Slowly, because he was sensitive and receptive, even to his own touch. Slowly, because he loved taunting me. He made sure I noticed his every move, noticed every flushed inch of skin.

He did so, because he knew that it made my mouth water and it would only be a matter of time, before I felt itchy again and I’d touch him the way he liked. As I squeezed the fabric of his damp underwear in my fist, I realized how addicted I was to his presence. How much I craved his smell; the little noises in the back of his throat; the way his smooth skin felt under my palms. I couldn’t even remember the days before he had come into my life and turned it upside down, and I didn’t want to, either. I wanted to crave him and feast on his existence.

Right now, though, I just wanted to watch.

“You’re so beautiful, do you know that?” I spoke silently, not wanting to break the spell that hung in the thick air between us. He threw his head back against the pillow and gasped, squeezing his fingers around the tip of his cock in response to my words. Timmy lived on praise.

“Armie, I… Oh,” he sighed, pumping his fist down over his cock. His thighs quivered a little and I wanted to reach out and steady them, hold them in my hands and feel the muscles work under Timmy’s skin, but I wouldn’t.

“What is it, sweetheart?” I asked instead, sliding my boyfriend’s underwear back and forth between both hands. I watched as Timmy collected a translucent drop of precum from his slit with his thumb and slicked his palm with it. I knew that it wasn’t enough. Timmy liked it wet and messy, as slippery as possible, and it was then that I realized what he wanted. “Do you want a little bit of lube?” I scooted a bit closer towards him, his underwear still in my hand and I watched him nod vigorously.

“Please,” he whispered. I reached out for the blue bottle on the nightstand and uncapped it.

“Do you want me to make your hand nice and wet? It will feel _so_ good on your cock, baby.” It was my way of reciprocating the teasing, how I lowered my voice and spoke slowly, so the timbre of it reached all the way to his core. 

“Yes,” Timmy hissed and I watched him shudder through a sharp spike of arousal, before he held out his hand and looked up at me with pleasing eyes. His magically green orbs sparkled, even through the lusty haze that had covered them from the moment he had opened his eyes and noticed that I was staring at him. I took pity on his desperation and dispensed a dollop of the slippery substance in his palm.

“There you go, love.” I smiled warmly and he bit his lip again, his cheeks darkening with desire. My gaze followed his hand as it moved back between his thighs and wrapped around his erection, which now looked painfully hard. He slicked his cock and teased the head for a moment, before he let go again and held his hand up for me again.

“Please, more,” he pleaded, sounding like his voice was about to break out into a sob. I briefly let go of his underwear to wipe his curls away from his face, an affectionate gesture I had picked up as soon as I had noticed the way they flopped over his forehead during our filmshoot in Crema. I squeezed more lube from the bottle onto his outstretched hand, put the bottle back on the nightstand and picked up his boxer shorts again. I didn’t know what made me want to hold on to them, but it made me feel close to him, even though I wasn’t touching him. 

I sat back against the footboard and smiled sweetly at my beautiful boyfriend, who was now stroking his cock with a purpose, the hard organ glistening in the morning glow. Timmy pulled his knees up and curled his toes into the mattress as he arched his back and panted his pleasure. I was, once again, mesmerized. The little whimpers coming from his throat made me want to crawl all over him and swallow them, but I didn’t want to distract him from what he was doing. He looked so good, so caught up in the moment. He deserved this.

“Does that feel good, baby?” I asked softly, squeezing his underwear into a ball in my hand. As I looked down at the fabric and caught sight of my own tenting boxer shorts, I realized that I was convulsively holding on to it to keep myself from chasing my own orgasm.

“God, yes,” Timmy moaned. His free hand slid up to his chest and he gently tweaked a nipple, making his cock jerk in his palm. He whined and bucked his hips up, before he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at me. While the hand on his cock never faltered, his other hand left his torso and reached for me. He wiggled his fingers and pouted pleadingly.

“Do you want me to come closer? Use your words, sweetheart,” I told him and I noticed the way his balls drew up between his thighs, the effect of my words immediate.

“Closer,” Timmy whispered, pausing to gasp for breath as he curled his fingers around the crown of his cock and pressed his thumb into his slit. “Want your… Oh! Armie… Want your hands on me.”

How could I ever say no to that? I was in no way capable of denying my baby anything, and so I got up from the bed, finally letting go of his pink underwear, and gently told him to sit up. He obeyed with a small whimper and I slipped in between his back and the headboard. I propped the pillow he had previously been lying on up behind my back and when I was comfortable, I placed both of my hands on his shoulders and carefully pulled him back against my chest.

“Where do you want my hands?” I whispered in his ear. He threw his head back against my shoulder and closed his eyes. His hands, one wet and one dry, found mine and he slowly guided them down over his chest. When my fingers glided over his nipples, he held them still and keened in the back of his throat.

“There,” he gasped. I pressed a soft kiss against the side of his head and smiled into his curls.

“You want me to play with your nipples, baby? Is that going to make you come?”

“Fuck, yeah,” Timmy nodded, reaching between his thighs again. The change in position allowed me to stare down his body and watch from his perspective and it felt strangely intimate, but so very familiar. I couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t been in my life and it was like he was just an extension of me - like I was a part of him and the pleasure he brought upon himself was both of ours.

He dragged his fingers up over the length of his cock, polished the smooth, wet head with his palm and then took himself in a firm grip. This time when he started stroking, it was fast and hard. I could feel his desperation for release, because my own balls were throbbing - almost like he was touching me, instead of himself - and that was kind of what I meant, wasn’t it? The pleasure was both of ours.

I held him firmly pressed against my chest and rolled his nipples between my thumbs and index fingers. My nose found its way behind his ear, where he smelled the strongest of shampoo, sleep and _boy._ I nuzzled his curls and kissed the skin on his neck, breathing heavily with the rhythm of his now loud groans and grunts. He turned his head and pressed his nose to my jawline, rubbing the tip up against my scruff.

“You smell so good,” he moaned, digging his heels into the mattress and pushing his hips up. His glans was now a dark, angry shade of purple and the muscles in his stomach were contracting beneath his skin. It was clear that he was only seconds away from coming beautifully for me and I wanted to be the reason he was pushed over the edge. I trailed my nails over his stiff little nipples and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“What do I smell like?” I asked, knowing what he was going to answer before he was able to get the words out.

“Like my Armie,” he breathed, followed by a soft moan. I smiled against his curls.

“That’s because I am, baby,” I said, laying more pressure on his nipples. “I’m yours, all of me. I’m yours and you’re mine.”

“Yes, yours,” Timmy panted, nodding against the side of my face.

“Come on,” I gently coaxed. “Give me all of you. Come for me, Timothée.”

“Nng,” he sobbed and his hips bucked up violently. His free arm flew up to grab onto the back of my neck and I felt his entire body shudder in my embrace, before he started to come. Thick spurts of pearly white cum streaked across the expanse of his stomach and pooled in his belly button. 

“That’s it, good boy,” I whispered, tightening my hold on him to help him relax through the shuddering aftershocks. He slumped against my chest and panted heavily, his cock now resting in the curve of his thumb. A particularly strong wave of his aftermath had him curling his toes and he leaked some more onto his lower stomach, before he finally relaxed and tried to regain his breathing.

“Am I hurting you?” he softly asked, nuzzling into my throat. He shifted onto his side a little and held on to my bicep as he recovered in my arms.

“Not at all,” I reassured him. Other than the ache in my balls, I was perfectly fine and I kissed the top of his head.

“I want you to come too,” Timmy whispered sweetly and I couldn’t help but smile at the warm flutters his words caused in my stomach. He never gave himself the time to recover properly, always eager to return the favor, but I was in no rush.

“I would love for you to make me come, but take your time and rest for a bit, love.”

Timmy sighed happily and squeezed the top of my arm, right where my shoulder began, before he pushed himself up on his arms and got out from between my legs. He lay on his side on the mattress, facing away from me and looked over his shoulder to make sure I was watching his every move - as if I ever had a choice. Then, he collected the cum on his stomach with the tips of his fingers and pushed it between his thighs, slicking his skin. I had to bite the inside of my lip to keep myself from whimpering pathetically. Not only was he young, insatiable and eager, but he was also very creative, always coming up with new ways for me to find my release when he was too sore to have penetrative sex. It was one of the many reasons why I loved him as much as I did. 

“Push between my legs,” he whispered, reaching his hand back to place on my hip and pull me closer. His wet fingertips soaked through the fabric of my boxer shorts, but I had already accepted that I would need another shower and probably a change of clothes. My tank top was sticking to my back, where I was already perspiring at the thought of seeking relief. I scooted closer behind him and pulled my underwear down over my straining cock, letting the waistband rest behind my balls. I supported myself on my elbow and used my free hand to guide my swollen tip between Timmy’s thighs. When I pushed my hips forward, I wrapped my arm around his waist and groaned against the back of his neck. He crossed his ankles and slid his fingers in between mine, tangling them lovingly.

“You’re so good to me,” I told him, slowly thrusting my cock in and out of the makeshift passage. The head bumped up against his balls and rubbed over his perineum, causing him to inhale sharply in response. “Strain your thighs for me, sweetheart. Make it nice and tight.” I realized that I almost sounded pleadingly, but I was already too far gone to care.

“You could get it even tighter, slide right inside me,” he mumbled, but he strained his legs for me nonetheless. “I’m still open for you. Always so ready for you,” he rambled into the pillow, pushing his ass back against me.

“Maybe later, baby,” I said, kissing his neck where it curved into his shoulder. My balls pulsed and I could feel my stomach heat up with my upcoming orgasm, embarrassingly close after just a few quick thrusts. It was what he did to me by merely existing and letting me be a part of his everything.

“I really love you, Armie,” he sighed, reaching between his legs to slip his finger through my wet slit as it appeared when I pushed forward. I hissed and bit into his shoulder, picking up the pace of my thrusts. 

“I love you too,” I told him breathlessly. I let go of his waist to place my hand on his hip instead and gave a few powerful jabs, before I shuddered and the fiery ball in the pit of my stomach exploded. My seed joined his on the insides of his thighs and a few drops landed on the mattress in front of him, but I couldn’t bring myself to care about the mess we were making, too caught up in how good it felt to find pleasure with him.

“Love when you mark me,” Timmy hummed, causing another spark of arousal to shoot up and down my spine.

“Fuck,” I grunted, releasing one last small drop of cum and coating his skin with it. I draped myself over him and wrapped both of my arms around his torso, holding him close and breathing him in. I could stay like this forever with him. I didn’t care that we were sweaty and sticky, my rumbling stomach - which had woken me up earlier - had faded to the background and I felt blissfully high on everything Timmy.

“I think you might need another shower,” my boyfriend chuckled and I breathed a laugh against the skin of his neck.

“This was your plan all along, you little minx. You know I can’t resist you when you start touching yourself like that.”

“Oops, you caught me.” His words were followed by a giggle and he turned around in my arms, causing my softening cock to slip free from the space between his legs. “How dare you shower without me,” he scoffed, poking me in the chest.

“I was going to get you breakfast,” I shot back in defense, but we were both smiling like fools and our banter made my heart expand in my chest. He headbutted me in the shoulder and then leaned in to press a soft kiss to my lips. When he was about to pull back, I grabbed the back of his head and deepened our kiss, slipping my tongue into his mouth. He keened quietly and angled his head to reciprocate.

When we finally pulled apart, I shifted back to look at him and affectionately stroked a thumb over his cheekbone. A ray of sun fell over his face, coloring his eyes a soft hazelnut and accentuating the flush on his cheeks. His lips looked puffy and moist, thoroughly kissed and I felt like doing it all over again. He was beautiful, he always was, but the soft rays painting him golden made him look like a mythical creature and it took my breath away every morning. _Every morning._ Because work or family may keep us apart from time to time, but we now had every morning to wake up next to each other. I wondered if there would ever come a time when I would forget to be grateful, but I was sure Timmy would help me remember. All I had to do was open the curtains and watch him spread out in that morning glow.

“Let’s go out for breakfast together,” he suggested and I nodded, stealing another kiss from his lips, but I still wasn’t in a rush. I snuggled into him and buried my nose in his hair. He wrapped his legs around my hips in return and as I felt him relax in my hold, I could hear his breathing slow down, until he was softly snoring against my neck, lulled back to sleep by the warmth of the sun.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to make Monday a little better *shrugs* Love you all! ♥


End file.
